exonerate
by felinedetached
Summary: Sabaku no Temari is the eldest daughter of the Kazekage, and she was born with rage in her heart. She was born incompatible with the Ichibi—something she will forever be grateful for, she thinks, because she saw how it twisted Gaara into something terrible, and she knows and hates that she played a part in it—and she was born as someone who was never expected to take the hat.


Sabaku no Temari is the eldest daughter of the Kazekage, and she was born with rage in her heart. She was born incompatible with the Ichibi—something she will forever be grateful for, she thinks, because she saw how it twisted Gaara into something terrible, and she knows and hates that she played a part in it—and she was born as someone who was never expected to take the hat.

(But she would get to jounin—she is the daughter of Sabaku no Rasa, the Yondaime Kazekage, and they will have nothing but the best from her—she would be powerful and beautiful and a part of her sibling's guard, whichever was chosen. Sometimes, she hates that they passed her over, hates that they held her back, hates that Rasa would have no less than three children and that she would be on their team, her own skill level regardless.)

She walks into Konoha, head held high, sixteen years old and already far beyond chunin level—and she _hates_ , hates with a passion that only Gaara matches, and sometimes she looks at him and she's not scared of him so much as she is what she could become—ready to participate in the chunin exams for the first time in her long genin career.

This is a front for an invasion, but it's her chance regardless; and Temari has never been one to let go of a chance when she is offered one.

* * *

In her dreams, she sits, the Kage's hat perched upon her head, Kankuro on one side and Gaara, mentally sound, on the other. Temari knows that dreams don't come true. She knows that this one in particular is very, _very_ far from her reach.

But there's a simmering rage in her heart—unlikely to ever really boil over, at this point, like a kunai too dull to pierce skin—that's layered in hope, and she knows that will be enough to drive her just that bit further.

(It won't be enough. This, she knows.

She was never meant for the hat. She can only hope, in the end, that one of her siblings wants it just as much as she does.)

* * *

Rasa fell to Orochimaru of the Sannin, and nobody noticed.

Temari can't decide if she wants to laugh, or if she wants to throw up. She thinks she might do both.

(It's a testament to their family, really. A testament to how frayed and broken the threads binding her to her brothers—binding her to her _father_ —really are. Temari always knew that, though; as did Kankuro, and Gaara. They're a broken family and they _know_ it, but she thinks that maybe, just _maybe_ , with their father dead they can change that.)

Baki is instated as the leader of Suna—temporarily, only until they can return home, but Temari _hates_. She hates that they looked over her once again, said only that Kankuro and Gaara are too young and went straight to Baki from there.

She finds herself up on the Hokage's mountain, sitting on the faces and watching over Konoha, an ANBU guard watching her in turn. They haven't left yet—they can't, not before negotiations—and she's tired and angry and she wants to prove that she can be what no one seems to think she can. At least Konoha knows she's capable; they had ANBU on her as soon as she left camp.

But it's a cold comfort, to be respected by your enemies and not your friends, so Temari sits and watches over this village that watches her, and thinks that if it came to it, she would choose her family over her own wants.

And she hates that that's the choice she'd make.

Her musing is broken by barks—deep, throaty ones, two or three at once—and a cheerful laugh. It's something Temari doesn't hear often, not back in Suna, so she turns, curious. The sounds come from a girl, with red markings on her cheeks (in a pattern Temari _knows_ she's seen before) and three nin-dog at her heels. She watches as the girl walks over, scoops up a stick from the ground and throws it back into the forest, one of the dogs peeling off to chase it. Another jumps up, licks at the girls face and barks excitedly when she laughs, shoving him off. The third, though—

The third heads straight for Temari, barking, and she leaps up just in time for said dog to go careening past her. The girl—an Inuzuka, she remembers now, the same clan as the boy with the puppy from the chunin exams—laughs, whistles, and the dog bounds back over to her in big, leaping strides.

Temari senses more than sees the ANBU tense as the girl walks over, her dogs by her side.

"Sorry about that," she says, smiles brightly, and she's prettier than anyone Temari's met in Suna. "I'm Hana, and these are the Haimaru brothers."

Temari stares at her. She's wearing a Konoha forehead protector, and she's from what Temari _thinks_ is a major clan, so she should already know that Temari helped in the invasion—from her _own_ forehead protector, at least, if not from word-of-mouth. But she approaches anyway, happily, looking entirely unruffled and like she _actually wants to know Temari's name._

"Sabaku no Temari," she responds, eventually, and she's still wary, but…

Hana seems to have no ill-intentions. She's just a Konoha-nin, walking her dogs, and talking to the chick one of said dogs almost ran over. And Temari may be a genin, but she's been one for four years now, and she's been training at jounin level for who knows how long.

Temari thinks that, if pushed, she could take her.

"From Suna, huh?" Hana asks, drops down to sit next to her. Temari raises an eyebrow, wondering if, _somehow_ , this chick has forgotten the invasion occurred. But then she says, "Gave my division a lot of work," and there's a grim little smile on her face, something dark in the way she curls her lips over her teeth. Temari _likes_ it, likes the way it makes her seem more dangerous.

She never thought she'd be one of those who are attracted to dangerous people, but if she's honest, with Gaara as her brother she never had the choice to be around anything but. After all, people do say you're more likely to like what you know.

So she looks at Hana, dangerous and beautiful and cheerful all at once, and she finds that the first thing to fall from her lips is an apology. "Yeah," she says, soft, "sorry."

Hana tilts her head, curious, then says, "Thank you." Temari's confusion must be creeping into her expression, because Hana elaborates almost instantly. "For apologising."

Temari really doesn't know what to say to that, so she says nothing. Together, they watch the sun rise over Konoha.

* * *

Temari's nearly seventeen by the time they get back to Suna, and she can't get Inuzuka Hana out of her head. It's distracting, but not enough to be debilitating, so she doesn't see the harm.

What she _does_ see the harm in is how the council decides almost instantly that Gaara and Kankuro will fight for the right to the hat.

When she slams her fan into the ground, everyone turns to look at her. She grins, something bloodthirsty; and she says, "My brothers are too young for this."

It's a voice that challenges anyone to disagree.

"Who should take the hat, then?" One of the elders asks. He's one of the more foolish ones, obviously—every other jounin in the room is watching her, wary. Hell, even _Gaara_ looks worried.

So she lets her grin show teeth, the same way Inuzuka Hana had all those weeks ago, when she looked at Temari and said, " _Gave my division a lot of work._ " She lets her grin bleed gold and white and toothy and she says, "I'll fight every jounin in this room for the right to it."

"You're just a genin!" Someone protests and Temari wrenches the top of her fan, opens it to the first star, raises an eyebrow.

"So?" she asks, "You wanted to put genin in charge, didn't you?" The room seems to cool as everyone studiously ignores her brothers, and Temari smirks, opens her fan just that little bit further. "Now, who wants to go first?"

* * *

The next time they meet, Temari has the Kazekage's green hat on her head and Hana is an ambassador to Suna.

"Kazekage-sama," Hana says, bows, formal as is required, but there's a smirk dripping amusement from her lips.

"Inuzuka-san," Temari replies, and it would be dismissive if not for the way her eyes soften. Hana's teammate—a Nara, she believes—snorts, pushing himself up from where he'd been leaning against the doorway. It would be a blatant act of disrespect, but everyone knows the Nara, and he probably figured that she'd be too distracted by Hana to notice his temporary laziness.

"You two are cute," he says, and Temari almost tenses, because that _is_ disrespectful, but Hana laughs, bright and happy, shifting slightly to look back at her teammate.

"Sickeningly so?" she asks, and the Nara shrugs lightly, stepping forwards.

"Clan head's son's got a more sickening crush on your brother," he says, and Hana laughs again. Temari decides then and there that she likes this man—if he makes Hana laugh this much, he can't be too bad.

"True that," Hana agrees, but this time, the Nara turns to Temari.

"Nara Ensui," he adds, offering her a short bow. "Nice to meet you, Kazekage-sama."

"You too, Nara-san," she replies, smiles back. "Is your missive of great importance, or do I have the time to borrow your partner?" Hana starts, but Nara stifles a snort, shaking his head.

"Borrow her if you'd like," he says, "I'd love a chance to rest."

Hana rolls her eyes, says, "Of course you would," but she accepts Temari's hand when she's offered it.

"I'll show him to his rooms," Gaara says, stepping into the room. Temari offers him a fond smile—of course he was listening in, the overprotective little creeper—but concedes, nodding her head.

"Thank-you, Gaara," she says, because it's best to stand on formality for now, even if she'd much rather be ruffling his hair and teasing him about being a stalker. Hana has no such compunctions, slipping her hand from Temari's only to drape it over her shoulders.

"So!" Hana says cheerfully, after Gaara and Ensui leave them, "You wanted to borrow me?"

"How would you like a tour of Suna?" Temari asks, amused.

"Just a tour?" Hana pouts, and there's a glint in her eye that speaks of a kind of interest Temari's entirely unopposed to.

"By fan," she clarifies, taking the huge weapon from beside her desk and flicking it open. Then she offers a sly smile, a glint to match Hana's own, and adds, "And maybe something else, after."

"That's a plan I'm into," Hana says, smiles and Temari feels like for once she's on top of the world.


End file.
